Tinkering With The Tardis
by waterbaby134
Summary: Five occasions of the Doctor tinkering with his beloved ship, each time accompanied/helped/hindered by a different companion. Concerns the new series. 9th/10th Doctors.


**Hi all. This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction. I'm a new fan of the show, and I created this little collection to try and get a handle on the main characters in case I want to try anything more ambitious down the track.**

**Each part features a different companion. First part is 9****th**** Doctor but all the rest are 10****th****.**

**I hope you enjoy. Rated T for mentions of 'dancing' and for Jack.**

**Words of TARDIS parts are made up and I certainly don't vouch for their accuracy. Doctor Who and anything else recognisable is not mine.**

* * *

_Jack - Between 'The Doctor Dances" and "Boomtown"_

Most of the time, Rose's big heart and compassion were two of the things the Doctor liked the most about her, but this particular penchant for picking up strays all over the universe was one he personally could've done without.

She was sitting with Jack at the table in the TARDIS kitchen, laughing as he regaled her with yet more tales of depravity from his life in the Time Agency. The stories seemed to get wilder every day, but not for a second did he doubt they were true. Like himself, Captain Jack Harkness was known throughout the galaxy, but less as an Oncoming Storm and more as genuine lover of all species, to put it mildly.

But make no mistake, he'd pull his weight here on the TARDIS or he'd find his handsome self dumped on some godforsaken planet faster than he could say Time Vortex. Rose was hard enough to keep an eye on just on her own; the last thing she needed was a partner-in-crime.

"I need to replace the time influxinator," he informed them. "Harkness, you know anything about maintenance?"

"No," said Jack sarcastically. "Because it's always a good idea to take a stolen ship to someone else whenever it needs repairs. No way word could ever get back to the owner _then_."

"Come on, then." The Doctor turned his back on him and headed back for the console room.

"All right, Doc," Jack called after him. "Never let it be said I missed a chance to get a look at your undercarriage. See ya later, Rosie," he added cheerfully to the girl, as she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles.

_Rassilon, save me_, the Doctor thought as Jack's heavy footfalls hurried to catch up with him.

It was a little cramped under the grating for two people, in the Doctor's opinion, but not a word of complaint passed Jack's lips. Plenty of others did however, including a colourful retelling of exactly what had happened last time he'd found himself in an enclosed space with a man. Privately, the Doctor hoped that little snippet would never reach Rose's ears; she was _far_ too young to be hearing things like that.

"Or maybe you're just too _old_, Doctor," said Jack, when he'd told him this. "Perhaps all this universe hopping has made you a little sensitive. Although," he ran his eye up and down the Doctor's body. "I still see plenty of potential."

The Doctor fought the urge to smirk. He'd become rather fond of this regeneration, over time but he wondered what Jack would have made of his previous bodies. The chap with the rainbow coat would have been interesting.

"Keep dreaming, Jack," he said. "I'm not accustomed to dancing with the likes of you."

"I could change your mind," said Jack confidently. "If we just stop off and pick up some blonde hair dye from someplace, I bet could have you _dancing_ again in no time. Maybe Rose could teach me the steps."

The Doctor preserved what he hoped was a dignified silence. To his great relief, Jack followed his example and turned his attention to the time influxinator which had just released an array of silver and red sparks.

They worked on it for a long while, and the Doctor was pleased to find Jack both knowledgeable and skilled in the task. Flawed in many ways he may well be, but he knew enough about mechanics to be of some use to him as a companion. He even found himself growing to like the man more as they swapped tales of travelling through time and space. There weren't all that many people in the universe that relate to that experience.

All was going well until Jack once again broached the topic the Doctor was keenest to avoid.

"So, you and Rose, what _is_ that, exactly?" he asked.

The Doctor stiffened. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Jack repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"And before I came, it was…?"

"Nothing."

"Right. Nothing. So if I was to say…'take her dancing?' What would you say about that?"

The Doctor took his time answering. Jack noticed the muscle that tightened in his jaw, as he once again said, "Nothing."

"So you'd be OK with that?" Jack pressed.

"Did I say that?" The Doctor fixed Jack with a steely glare, and Jack nodded once, in understanding. The Doctor didn't seem to want to say much about this, but he'd certainly gotten his point across. The message couldn't have been clearer.

"_On your own head."_

A sudden noise above them made them both look up. Rose was beaming down at both them, a glass of blue liquid in each hand.

"Well, don't you two look cozy?" she said, grinning mischievously. "Doesn't look like there's room to swing a cat down there."

"Always room for one more," said Jack, shifting aside to leave an almost non-existent gap between himself and the Doctor, and winking at her. "Come on, squeeze in."

Rose's eyes twinkled mischievously, and she laughed a little. "Temptin,' but I'll pass. Just thought you boys might want a drink. What are you two talking about anyway?"

She passed them the glasses as Jack and the Doctor exchanged glances.

"Nothing," they said, in unison.

* * *

_Mickey – Between 'Girl In The Fireplace" and "Age of Steel"_

The TARDIS was nothing like any spaceship Mickey had ever heard of before. He'd seen rockets on the telly, and had toy versions to play with when he'd been young, but if someone told him he'd one day be whizzing around the universe in a 1950's police box, he'd have said they were mad.

Though of course, meeting the Doctor had forced him to completely re-evaluate his idea of 'mad.' How else could you describe a bloke that looked like a human but was actually an alien, had apparently fought in a war but abhorred guns, and could talk the ear off anybody in the universe who cared to listen? Or didn't care to listen, come to that.

And that was before he'd even got into the whole 'regeneration' thing, which he still didn't fully understand.

One (admittedly impressive) sword fight and a severed hand at Christmas was all it took to convince Rose she hadn't lost her Doctor, but for himself and Jackie, it took a little longer. They had only just started to get their heads around the big-eared, leather-jacketed man that had taken Rose away, and then this one had been sprung on them.

Well, he said 'taken' but she hadn't exactly put up much of a fight. Sure, she'd said no the first time he'd offered, but the second time, less than a minute later, she couldn't run into that bloody blue box fast enough.

At least now, travelling with them through the stars, he got to see some of the things she was always banging on about whenever the Doctor deigned to bring her home.

And he'd certainly seen some things. Clockwork aliens. Krillitanes. Windows on spaceships that turned out to be gateways to pre-revolutionary France. Even the days like today, when they just hung out in the Time Vortex, there was incredible stuff to see. The TARDIS itself (or _her_self, as both the Doctor and Rose insisted) was an adventure, adding, moving or deleting rooms seemingly at will, so that behind every door was a surprise waiting to happen.

This time, he found himself in the console room, the banging and clattering coming from underneath the floor informing him that the Doctor was busy 'fixing' something again.

As he approached the console, the banging abruptly stopped, and the Doctor's messy hair popped into view as he lifted his head. He had several wires draped around his neck, and his glasses balanced precariously on the end of his nose. He looked like a mad scientist from an old black and white film.

Not for the first time, he wondered when Rose had started going for geeky-looking blokes like this. Back in school, she was all about Jimmy Stone, and his kind of people, with their guitars, and calloused fingers and dark circles under their eyes from staying out drinking all night. She used to hang on to that bastard Stone's every word when she was with him, and now Mickey suspected she'd barely even notice if she passed him on the street. She had eyes only for the Doctor.

The Doctor looked around the room, grinning widely. "Rose?" he asked, and Mickey snorted a little. Typical.

"Guess again."

The Doctor's gaze landed on him and his face fell. "Oh, it's you." And without further ado, he retreated back under the floor and the buzzing sound of the sonic screwdriver echoed around the room.

In spite of the obvious dismissal, Mickey found himself edging closer to the hole in the floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that passed for an engine in the TARDIS. He had been a mechanic back home after all, and machinery had always interested him. Besides when else was he going to get to see what made a time machine work? At the sound of his footsteps, the Doctor looked up again. With the sonic in one hand and a large mallet in the other, he was frowning at something Mickey couldn't see from this angle, and muttering something under his breath in an unintelligible language.

"Need a hand?" Mickey offered, and the Doctor gave a short bark of laughter.

"From _you_?" he scoffed. "Not likely. No human in the whole of existence could ever understand the workings of my beautiful ship, least of all Mickey the Idiot. Oh, that was rude wasn't it?" he added, apparently rhetorically; as he went on to answer himself in the next breath. "Still haven't quite got control over the rude thing yet. Not sure I ever will. Don't tell Rose. She would have had my head if she'd heard that."

Mickey figured that was as close as he was going to get to an apology.

"I may not know anything about time machines," he pressed. "But I used to fix cars for a livin' you know. I'm sure there's somethin' I could do." Before this whole thing was over, he was determined to show the Doctor that he was not, in fact, a complete idiot _or_ a tin dog. Rose Tyler wasn't the only useful human to come out of the Powell Estate.

The Doctor considered him a moment.

"Hold these," he instructed, removing the wires from around his neck and thrusting them at Mickey. "And pass them to me when I need them." He disappeared again briefly, leaving Mickey to attempt to untangle the jumble of wires.

"Transmorphiger cable." The Doctor's hand reached out from under the grating.

"What?" said Mickey, having never heard of such a thing.

The Doctor gave a deep sigh. "The purple one."

With much difficulty, Mickey managed to separate the purple wire from its fellows, ignoring the Doctor's grunts of impatience, and handed it to him. A split second later, the Doctor's thin hand shot back out again.

"Dematerialisation extrapolator. Green," he said.

They continued in this fashion for some time. Mickey was pleased to find that he was eventually able to untangle the wires, and therefore able to pass over the correct one within a second of the Doctor asking for it. He also noticed a blinking light by the Doctor's head, which had turned out to be a warning of some kind, causing the Doctor to sonic it, and throw a grateful look his way. Mickey had to admit, that was satisfying. He knew he had perfectly good reason not to like the Doctor, but he couldn't help but respect him, all the same. He might have stolen Rose away, but he _was_ good at saving the universe, and though it pained Mickey to admit it, he'd never seen Rose happier.

Once the job was done, the Doctor hoisted himself out of the gap in the floor and replaced the grating that covered.

"I must say, that job goes a lot quicker with two people," he said. "You did well, Mickey…for an idiot." But the insult was accompanied by the smallest hint of a smile, which was a big improvement on the usual look of disdain the alien wore whenever he spoke to him.

He'd take what he could get.

* * *

_Rose – Between "Fear Her" and "Army of Ghosts"_

Rose lay on the couch in the library, the magazine she'd been trying (and failing) to distract herself with, resting on her stomach. She'd been relieved when the Doctor suggested they spend some time in the Time Vortex before their next trip outside the TARDIS. Not that she didn't enjoy their adventures, and the running and the madness, but sometimes she just needed a break from it all. And sometimes it was nice to spend time with the Doctor, just the two of them, without having to worry about species or planets in peril.

So easily could their day have turned out differently. Their run-in with the Isolus had forced her to acknowledge how much she depended on him. In the hours they were separated she had been truly lost, trapped several years ahead of her time with no way of getting back. She couldn't fly the TARDIS. What would she have done if he hadn't found his way back? London in 2012 could be wildly different from the London she'd left. What if something had happened to her mother in that time? She made a mental note to call her later and check in.

And what of the Doctor? God knew he needed somebody to look after him. She hated the thought of him being alone. And the idea of living the rest of her life apart from him-it made her want to be sick.

She picked up the magazine and left the library, letting the TARDIS guide her where she pleased. She wandered along, opening doors at random, until eventually she emerged in the console room. A pair of skinny legs was protruding from underneath it, and she could hear the low rumble of his voice, muttering something in what she assumed was Gallifreyan. It was only guesswork, but she'd noticed that he tended to unconsciously revert to this particular language when he was frustrated or upset, so she surmised it to be his native tongue.

Something crackled and sparked underneath the console, the Doctor barked out a single angry word and she felt herself start to smile. Alien language or not, she knew a curse word when she heard one.

She was glad the TARDIS had brought her here. The ship always seemed to know exactly what she needed, even if it sometimes took a little while to get there, and what she needed right now was some assurance that he wasn't going to vanish into thin air again right under her nose.

She draped herself over the captain's chair and opened her magazine again, feeling her tension already starting to ease by simply being near him. She doubted he was even aware of her presence, of which she was glad. She was content just to sit and listen to him work, knowing he was safe, that he hadn't disappeared again.

The Doctor completed the last remaining part of his repairs and put the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket. He'd meaning to get to this part for quite some time, but with one and thing and another, simply hadn't gotten around to it yet. Quite apart from their usual adventures, Rose tended to monopolize a lot of his time these days. He found himself spending hours in her company, talking or bickering or even sitting side-by-side with her in the library reading. There were still moments when he craved his own space, but they were fewer and further between than with some previous companions. Rose was just so kind and interesting, and so much fun, that he found himself constantly wanting to be around her, and she seemed to feel the same way.

He'd heard her come in just before, but she hadn't spoken a word to him, and he wondered if he might have done something to upset her. Admittedly, disappearing off to light the Olympic cauldron without a word to her may not have been the smartest move, but he'd had to get the pod sorted somehow, and time had been of the essence.

She would understand. She was good like that.

He was about to slide out from under the console when he noticed a loose screw, which he quickly soniced, and then slipped on his glasses and inspected the rest of the area looking for any others. He didn't find any more loose ones but he did find a small hole in one of the stabilisers he hadn't noticed before, fixable, but easier with a second pair of hands. Superior Time Lord biology or not, he simply couldn't hold the sonic AND the acetylene torch AND the two other tools he'd need to get it done.

He sighed, and pulled himself out from underneath. She glanced over at him with a big smile, which he felt had a bit to do with the glasses. She seemed to like the way he looked in his glasses, with the result that he tended to don them more than was strictly necessary, just to make her smile.

"All right down there?" she asked. "What torture are you subjectin' the poor TARDIS to now?"

He frowned. "I'm _helping_ her," he replied, indignantly. "She knows that, don't you, old girl?"

Inside his head the TARDIS, made a humming noise that seemed to say, "_If you say so." _Rose must have heard it too, as she gave a low chuckle and patted the console fondly.

"Just let him think he's helping you, girl. He needs to think that he's good for something around here."

The TARDIS hummed again, her version of laughter, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"I hate it when you two gang up on me," he whined. "All the time, every planet, every day, I am personally victimised by my two companions. You're supposed to have my back, you two, not be whispering amongst yourselves like we're in some human high school. I don't need to be treated like this, I should just drop you home and pick up some other human to be my companion, one who'll appreciate my skill and intelligence-" he broke off as he noticed the stricken expression that had appeared on Rose's face. "What?"

"It's that easy, huh?" she said, feigning disinterest. "Drop me off home, pick up the next one, just like that." She snapped her fingers to emphasize the point.

If the TARDIS could speak, he knew she'd be saying one word only at this point. _Idiot. _As it was, she sent a gentle pulse into his mind, voicing her displeasure.

"Rose," he pulled himself to his feet, wiping his oily hands on the rag sticking out of his pocket. "I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it like that. It's this mouth, I tell you. It seems to work independently of my brilliant brain and it just runs away with me sometimes."

She gave a humourless chuckle. "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"On the planet Xelanon, they spend all day dancing and throwing rice at one another," he responded without missing a beat. "Bet you didn't know that." He was pleased to see her mouth turn up at the corners, despite her best efforts. "I'd never abandon you anywhere, Rose," he added. "Not as long as it's in my power to keep you here with me."

The smile turned into a real one. "Good," she said. "Cos I'm not goin' anywhere. Not ever." He was the most important man in her life. He was the centre of her universe. He was the only future she could see for herself. And as long as there was breath in her body, she wouldn't leave him. Period.

He grinned again, and shoved a handful of weird-looking tools into her arms. "I need your help," he said. "_No-one's_ going anywhere until we get the TARDIS sorted out. You any good with engines?"

"Mickey used to bring me by the garage sometimes," she said, deciding not to mention that she'd found the experience so dull, she'd never taken in a word of what he was saying. But she could pretend to be interested for the Doctor's sake.

She could do pretty much anything for him.

* * *

_Martha – Between "The Lazarus Experiment" and "42."_

It was so good to finally be here on the TARDIS on a permanent basis. All this 'one more trip' business, it just hadn't been fair. Had all the Doctor's former companions been subjected to this extended trial period? Had Rose?

Martha tried to avoid the R-word whenever possible. All it did was make him close himself off when all she wanted was to be closer to him. But she couldn't help noticing the way Rose's name tended to crop up at random moments, and a lot more regularly than she'd like.

He just needed something to take his mind off her, that was all. A species or a planet to rescue would be just the thing. But the universe seemed to have gone quiet for now, half her luck, and ever since they'd left Earth he'd been in a despondent sort of mood. Maybe it was Rose's birthday or something, or the anniversary of the day she'd dumped him.

She'd tried to snap him out of it. She'd given him space, she'd tried to get him to talk to her, she'd told him funny stories of medical school, but though he'd managed polite, disinterested smiles, she suspected he'd barely been listening.

She was in her bedroom trying to study her medical textbook, but all she could think about was him, sulking by himself elsewhere in the TARDIS. There had to be something she could do, to help exorcise the ghost of the mysterious Rose and to remind him that there were other fish in the universal sea, so to speak.

"If you've got any pointers," she said aloud, addressing the TARDIS, "I'm all ears." She still wasn't quite used to the idea that the machine they were traveling in was sentient, but the TARDIS had been with him longer than anything else, she must know what to do.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting by way of response, but it certainly wasn't the heavy book that appeared beside her. It was leather-bound and dusty, and looked as though it hadn't been touched, not to mention opened, for Lord knew how long. It contained scale drawings, diagrams and carefully worded instructions describing the features and purpose of several strange tools she'd never seen before. It was fascinating, the advances technology had made since the 21st century, and flipping through each page was like a glimpse into the future.

It looked for all intents and purposes like an instruction manual, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what the TARDIS had hoped to achieve by bringing it to her, until the ship gave her a small nudge to go and find the Doctor. Clutching the heavy book under her arm, she slid off the bed and walked off in search of him.

She found him in the kitchen, eating a banana. He offered her one, which she declined and he unpeeled it anyway and began eating that one too, even though he hadn't finished the first one yet.

"What have you got there?" he asked her, when he'd finally managed to swallow the fruit.

She showed him the book. "She put it in my room. I have no idea what it's for."

"It's the instruction book to my toolkit," he said, examining it. "I got it for cheap at a bazaar on some far distant planet, hundreds of years ago. Course, the sonic screwdriver renders every single one of these tools obsolete, but as you've seen, it's not indestructible, and it's always handy to have a backup, just in case I'm ever caught without it."

"Looks like you haven't opened this book for a while," said Martha, blowing some dust off the spine. He gave a snort of indignation.

"I don't need a book to tell me what my ship needs. Not when she can tell me herself, isn't that right, girl?" The TARDIS hummed back at him. "Besides my mind is far too superior for the likes of _that_ publication. It's kind of like one of those 'Computers for Dummies' books you humans are so fond of."

"Can you teach me?" Martha put the book down on the table and looked up at him beseechingly. "What if something happens to you, and we need a repair done? At least knowing what tool to use would be a start."

"Martha, this book was written for an audience many years ahead of your time," he said. "There'll be words in there you don't know, materials that haven't even been invented yet in your time."

She bristled at his condescending tone. "Are you calling me stupid, Doctor?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, not stupid exactly, more behind the times, through no fault of your own of course, but things are what they are, there's a limit to how much knowledge a human can have…" She waited patiently as he babbled on, and tried not to smile at the look of distress on his face as he realized he was being unintentionally rude. "I know you're not stupid Martha," he eventually concluded. "You know I think you're brilliant."

She couldn't help but smile at him, he looked so uncomfortable.

"Then prove it. Teach me."

The next hour was probably one of the best she had ever spent on the TARDIS. Having finally resigned himself to teaching her the basics, the Doctor grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the console room. He removed each tool from the kit one by one and told her it's name and what it was used for and made her repeat it back to him. His long-suffering looks whenever she got the name wrong were so funny and endearing. One particular tool took her no less then six attempts to pronounce correctly, not least because she was trying to not to laugh at the expression on his face.

Why hadn't she thought of this before? The Doctor, always so fascinated in learning more about the worlds around him also turned out to be a wonderful teacher, capable of making the smallest metal gadget appear utterly fascinating through his detailed descriptions and demonstrations. It was nice to finally find something in common, something they could talk about without awkward silences or sadness. She could have sat there and listened to him ramble forever, but then he handed her what he called the freyintular, and told her have a try at loosening the materialisation capacitor. It would be useful if she ever got stuck on a planet without him, he said, and might be just enough to get her back into the Time Vortex, whereupon the TARDIS would take care of the rest. She tried not to get too excited by the sensation of his gentle hands on hers guiding her in the task, and it was only her stubborn sense of pride that kept her from doing it wrong on purpose, so he'd have to show her again. She _was _clever, and she'd win his affection by being herself, or not at all.

"You know I'd never leave you on your own, right?" she asked him, after successfully completing the task. "I'd come back for you…eventually."

The joke fell on deaf ears, as his eyes took on that familiar, faraway look and she realized she had once again said the wrong thing.

"That's the thing about you humans," he said. "Loyal to the last. But one day, you might not have a choice. Then what?"

To that, Martha couldn't find an answer.

* * *

_Donna – Between "Unicorn and the Wasp" and Silence In the Library."_

The Doctor honestly didn't know what had happened. One minute, he'd been happily tinkering under the console, the next he'd been thrown onto his back with the force of the explosion that had emanated from it.

"I'm sorry, girl, I'm so sorry," he babbled to the TARDIS, running his hands over the console, looking for the source of the blast. "I was so careful not to hit the occipital lever this time, I don't know what I did."

He was fairly sure if his ship had been capable of rolling her eyes, she'd be doing it now.

"Oi! Spaceman!"

He cringed inwardly as the familiar dulcet tones of Donna reached his ears. He'd been really hoping that the noise hadn't woken her up. Donna was brilliant, his best friend in all the universe, but he'd learned the hard way before that disturbing her beauty sleep was never a good idea.

She stormed into the console room, red hair swinging wildly, and her dressing-gown untied, murder in her eyes, and he found himself unconsciously clutching the sonic screwdriver for security.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" she demanded. "I know _Time Lords _don't need sleep, but in case you'd forgotten, humans do!"

"How could I forget?" he retorted. "I could get lots more done if I wasn't always forced to accommodate human sleep cycles-"

"Oh no you don't," she snapped, cutting him off. "You're not going to use all that 'superior species' rubbish to get out of this one. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't smack you silly right now."

The Doctor regarded her for a moment, with her eyes blazing, and her fingers just itching to get some smacking done…and then burst out laughing.

Taken aback by the sudden change in the atmosphere, all the fight seemed to go out of Donna. "What?" she asked suddenly alarmed. "What's so funny?"

"Did you happen to take a look in the mirror before storming out here like the rampaging hordes?" he asked. "Maybe you should."

Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, she backed away from him, into the adjoining bathroom. When she turned to face the mirror, she let out an almighty shriek at the sight of her hair. Rumpled and messy and sticking up at odd angles all over her head, it almost reminded her, well…of the Doctor's. Well, gadding about the universal like some sort of skinny, besuited porcupine might work for _him_, but she was having no part of it.

Outside, his laughter continued as she flattened her hair down and exited the bathroom.

"I suppose you found that quite amusing," she asked him, haughtily.

"Yep," he said. "Though the crazy hair certainly added to the effect very nicely. Turn you loose on the Carrionites and send them running for their lives, I could."

"Don't think I won't still smack you," she said, threateningly. "I can't be held responsible for my actions if I don't get my eight hours sleep."

"OK, OK." The Doctor threw up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't say another word about it…today."

Her eyes narrowed once again. "You're really pushing it, Spaceman."

Just then, sparks emitted from under the TARDIS console, and the Doctor gave a cry of alarm, and dived back under it.

"What are you doing in here, anyway?" asked Donna, dropping herself onto the captain's chair. There'd be no chance of her getting any more sleep for a while, so she'd might as well stay and see if she could help at all.

"Trying to fix her up so she lands a little smoother." The Doctor's voice, slightly muffled, came back from under the console. "So she doesn't throw us about so much."

"I thought you liked it when it was bumpy. More fun that way, you said."

"I do. But it's not good for her. Anyway, I must have hit something I shouldn't because I-"

"-blew something up," Donna finished for him. "Sounds about right, you dumbo. All the hundreds of years you've been floating around on this ship and you still don't have any idea of what you're doing."

"I'll have you know," the Doctor retorted, "that I know exactly what I am doing. Nobody understands my TARDIS better then I do, right girl?"

The answering hum from the ship didn't seem to give him the response he wanted, as he made a small noise of annoyance. Donna chuckled.

"Sounds to me like she has her doubts," she said. "You were right, she is clever."

The Doctor sighed. "Oh here we go, it's always the same. Companion and the TARDIS against me, all the girls together…"

"Don't you ever bring men along with you?" Donna asked, with a wicked smile. "Cos I wouldn't mind."

"Of course I do," the Doctor said. "Just recently, I had Jack along with me. You'd have liked him…and he would have_ loved_ you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Jack loves everybody," he answered, with a chuckle. "And I mean _everybody._" There was a succession of banging and crashing before he spoke again. "OK, I think I know what I did wrong, I'll just tighten this up and-"

He was cut off as a second explosion, even stronger than the first, emanated from the console and flung him across the room in a shower of pink and green sparks. Donna leapt up from the captain's chair and rushed to his side, praying he hadn't done any real damage to himself. He might be a pain-in-the-neck alien but she still wouldn't want him to come to any harm.

He was coughing violently- a good sign, and by the time she reached him, had managed to pull himself into a sitting position.

"Well," he spluttered, through hacking coughs. "That was fun."

"Are you all right?" asked Donna, anxiously. "You stupid alien, you could have killed yourself!"

"I'm all right," he said. "Look, ten fingers, ten toes, well you can't see them because of my shoes but I can certainly vouch for their presence-oof!" He was cut off again as she pulled him into a tight hug. "Careful now, I was hoping to avoid the broken ribs."

She pulled away from the hug, and studied him. He did seem all right except for the slightly smouldering suit…and the sooty face. Unable to stop herself, she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her peals of laughter.

"What?" he said, defensively. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she managed to choke out. "Cept you might want to go take a look in the mirror."

**I hope you guys liked reading this. I had fun writing it, and I hope I did all these beloved characters justice.**


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